


Doors Sensibly Shut

by Benjamaru



Series: Shadows of Loss [1]
Category: The Haunting of Hill House (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Family Feels, Future Fic, Gen, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22170184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benjamaru/pseuds/Benjamaru
Summary: It's been two years since the death of Nellie and Hugh Crain and Steven finds himself struggling to cope, prompting a spontaneous visit to Shirley's. The spirits of Olivia and Hugh still visit him, yet he hasn't seen Nell since that night, and grows increasingly desperate to do so.
Relationships: Eleanor "Nell" Crain & Steven Crain, Leigh Crain/Steven Crain, Luke Crain & Steven Crain, Olivia Crain & Steven Crain, Shirley Crain & Steven Crain, Steven Crain & Theodora "Theo" Crain
Series: Shadows of Loss [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672300
Comments: 13
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever had the nerve to put on the internet. That being said I don't shy away from feedback or critique. Hope you enjoy!  
> Edit: Minor tweaks including spelling, grammar, and punctuation corrections. Biggest change is I went in to put inner thoughts in italics (didn't know how to do that before, this is my first time working with HTML), so hopefully that's much clearer now.

###  1 

Steven Crain had found himself in many bizarre places in his life, and yet he never thought he’d be having a panic attack in a convention center parking lot. He couldn’t help but feel silly as he leaned back into his car seat and breathed slowly. He began counting to seven, something he noticed Luke do as a child when he was overwhelmed. _You’re supposed to be the big brother, Steve,_ he thought to himself as his composure inched its way back. He pulled out his phone and contemplated if he was ready to talk to someone, figuring it was now or never he called Shirley. The phone rang a few times, _probably busy_ , he thought as he steadied his breath, _maybe I shouldn’t be bothering her, this was a mistake, I should hang_ -

“Hey, Steve,” Shirley’s voice cut through his internal rambling, “what’s up?”

“Oh, you know,” Steve began, unsure of what he was going to say next he simply stammered before sighing.

“Is everything alright? You sound you were just in a car crash.”

“I wish!” he chuckled morbidly, “Do you have time for a stupid story?”

“Yeah I’m here for you, Steve,” He still hadn’t gotten used to his sister’s warmer side, he had held the number one spot on Shirley’s shit list for so long he thought he’d be there forever, “Is this about that thing you’re at today? Ghost-con or something?”

“Ectocon,” he corrected, knowing that didn’t sound any less dumb, “it’s different this year, or I guess I’m different, ever since…”

“Did something happen at your panel?”

“No, I’ve still got a few minutes before that. I was just checking out artist alley and one of the booths had fanart from my books,” he paused for a beat, looking in the rear-view mirror to make sure nothing was there, “and one of their pieces was the Bent-Neck Lady.”

“Oh Jesus, Steve.”

“I just stood there staring at it like an idiot, it didn’t look a thing like Nell but it was just too much and then the artist asked if I wanted a copy.” Steve felt his anxiety rising again.

“You said no, right?”

“I was going to but then they recognized me and they looked so happy that I was interested in their art and I couldn’t just say ‘I would but that’s actually my dead sister’ so I said that I’d love one and I bought it and now I’m just sitting in my car with the thing staring at me from my passenger seat!” he paused to catch his breath, he hadn’t felt like this since the first time he saw Nell’s body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

“You don’t have to apologize. None of us are really over what happened that night.”

“Am I interrupting anything?” Steve said in a less than subtle attempt to change the topic.

“It’s okay, we were meeting a client but I stepped out, Kevin’s got handled.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Shirl.”

“I did, you know I did.”

“Thanks, Shirley,” he exhaled some of the tension in his body as he looked over at the macabre digital painting in the seat next to him, “got any ideas on what I should do with my new purchase?”

“I’d just get rid of it once you get back to your place. Is it even any good?”

“You know it’s not that bad, a couple years ago I might have really liked it,” He chuckled earnestly, “how would you feel if I came up to visit soon?”

“Of course. I can make some time this weekend and the guest house is vacant, maybe your next book can be about it, if one-night-stands leave a psychic imprint it could be a hotspot,” they shared a laugh.

“Nothing would surprise me at this point, I’d work on your sales pitch for the guest house though. I should get going, thanks again, Shirl.”

“Anytime,” He hung up, rubbed his forehead, and moved the art piece to the backseat, face down. 

###  2 

The panel was going easier than he thought it would, it helped that there were other authors up there with him so most of the questions weren’t him specifically. If anything, it was cathartic to see other writers go through the same kind of questions he got on his book tours, the discussions were not bad either. He was starting to feel like himself again when his turn to take a question from the audience came around.

“Is it true that you don’t actually believe in ghosts?” a young man in Freddy Krueger cosplay asked.

“Well I’ve done my best to be skeptical throughout my life, even while living at Hill House I tried to rationalize the preternatural. It was only after a lot of examination looking back was I able to accept what me and my family went through. So I’m not quick to believe in every claim of the paranormal, but in my writing I feel like I get at how places and people can be haunted in ways beyond spirits and specters. Thank you.”

Questions like those were easier for Steve to answer, even if it meant mincing the truth ever so slightly. But the easy questions wouldn’t last long, as he found out on his next turn.

“A lot of people are saying that your latest novel is the best since The Haunting of Hill House, would you attribute this to the tragedies that occurred when you were writing it?”

_They’re getting clever about asking about my personal life,_ Steve mused while preparing answer

“You kinda hit the nail on the head. The passing of my father and sister brought me back to a similar head space as when I wrote my first book and it was hard to keep that from influencing the final product. Thank you.”

_Well, that wasn’t so bad._

“I’d like to follow up on that, if I may?” another author by the name of Maxwell announced.

_Oh Lord,_ Steve thought while he nodded in affirmation, _don’t turn on me, fellas._

“I don’t say this to be rude but your new book, The Hauntings of America, has a radically different style and tone compared to all of your other books, Hill House included. What exactly about their passing affected your writing so much?”

_That was a bit tactless, Max._

“Well, for one the events were much more recent compared to when I wrote about Hill House,” Steve said, it was the only thing that was true and wouldn’t throw more of his family’s business out to the public, he couldn’t stop to think for long though, “and, as I’ve said a million times in the past, I have no interest in revisiting Hill House, but my writing, unfortunately, is how I cope, so I suppose my grief just sort of, spilled into The Hauntings of America in unforeseen ways. And, honestly, that’s all I have to say about all that,” Maxwell seemed satisfied with that; meanwhile, Steve found himself just happy that that was his last question for the panel. 

“Do you think Eleanor is still in Hill House?” someone shouted from the audience.

There was a pregnant pause after the heckle, luckily he was under no obligation to answer it given it was a rogue outburst, but he knew the question was on everyone’s mind. It was on his mind too. Nell had said she was scattered all over their lives but since he left the house he hadn’t seen her. Was she really trapped?  
Steve was thankful that the panel wrapped up soon after that, he had planned on sticking around the convention and try to enjoy himself but that seemed unlikely at this point. He texted Leigh to let her know that he was going to be home early and made his way back to his car.

###  3 

Steve woke wearily from sleep, a slow and unwelcome transition into the waking world with a complementing cold shiver down his spine. All too aware of what this could mean, he chose to keep his eyes shut. She was there, watching him sleep from the corner of his room. Steve’s mother had visited him before, but he could no longer pretend she wasn’t real and now knew what she was capable of. He turned away, anxious that his movements would seem unnatural for a sleeping person, and gently grabbed Leigh’s hand under the sheets. Soft fabric rustled as soft footsteps crept towards him. Steve’s anxious mind wandered back to the night his father died, the last time he stepped foot in Hill House, the way his mother looked at him as the Red Room door closed. _She’ll never be satisfied._

A cold hand combed through his hair in what would otherwise be a loving and comforting maternal act. Steve did his best not to react.

“Don’t wake him,” a familiar voice whispered, “he’s had a rough day as it is.”

Steve opened his eyes and turned to face his visitors but none were there. He sighed with a mix of relief and inexplicable disappointment. He had been so afraid a second ago but now was filled with a strange longing. Thankfully, fatigue found him again and he had less trouble than expected getting back to sleep. 

###  4 

“I’ll be fine!” Leigh implored, “The baby’s not due for another three months and I’m not exactly helpless. Besides you get weird when you haven’t seen your family in a while.”

“What do you mean ‘weird’? I’m not weird,” Steve protested a little too strongly, aware of this he looked to his feet in embarrassment, “I used to go years without seeing some of them, and I wasn’t weird then.”

“Honey, you were so weird. You missed them so much when we moved to LA, you just didn’t want to admit it.” She had seemed credible in her assessment of him until she reached into the paper bag sitting on her lap and stuffed more fries in her mouth with an excessive moan. 

“I didn’t want to be anywhere near Shirley back then, she was a bad day from ripping my head off, and Theo was, well, Theo,” he chuckled as he said this, still finding a morbid humor in how dysfunctional his family had been.

“That’s why you missed them so much, you felt you couldn’t be around them and we want what we can’t have the most.”

“Still, tomorrow seems a bit soon,” he said, unease laden in his voice

“Steve, is there something else you’re afraid of?”

Steve rubbed his forehead and inhaled, “a lot actually, for one I haven’t talked to any of them about the baby’s name. I don’t know why but I just worry that they won’t approve,” Leigh reached out and squeezed his hand.

“They’ll understand.”

Steve knew his wife was right, and yet something kept him uneasy. _People name their kids after family all the time, why does this feel different, wrong, even? I wouldn’t care if one of them did it. Or would I? Why would I?_

Steve sighed as he brought Leigh’s hand to his head and counted to seven in his head, “I think you’re right, I’m getting weird.”

###  5 

Steve didn’t actually like planes much, he never told anyone that otherwise they might point out that he flies all the time for his job and then be compelled to never write another book. Eventually he learned to get comfortable enough to doze off for a few minutes despite his wish to simply sleep through the whole flight.  
He opened his laptop and began writing, or he tried to at least, writing a sentence or two before deleting it and starting over. Steve had realized that what he said at the Ectocon panel hadn’t been entirely true, he had much more to say about everything, the only difference being this time he didn’t know how to say it. He had a decade and some change to process his thoughts and feelings about Hill House the first time he wrote about it but he was still aggravated that he condensed an entire summer into eighty thousand words but he couldn’t manage more than a paragraph about one night.  
He leaned back into his seat and rubbed his face before checking the flight tracker, the plane was just passing into Missouri. He contemplated getting a drink but ever since Nellie’s wake he’d been more hesitant to indulge. Steve stared at the ceiling as though inspiration was graffitied up there, instead after a moment his seat’s lamp light flashed twice. _Jesus, this better not be what I think it is._

“Hi, mom,” Steve said sardonically under his breath but any suspension of denial he had evaporated when his gaze returned to his laptop screen.

‘Hi Stevie" was written in his blank document, not in the font he had selected.

_Fuck it,_ he thought to himself grimly, _this might as well happen._

He typed a response, ‘long way from home I see’. _What the hell am I doing?_

The response simply appeared, as though copied from somewhere else and then pasted, ‘No where’s too far for a worried mother. Having trouble writing?’

‘Yeah, I mean I’ve had writers’ block but this is worse than usual, I can’t even get a good foundation in,’ the irony of complaining to a ghost about not being able to write about ghosts was not lost on Steve.

‘You were always good at telling stories, you could take something real and turn it into so much more. I think you’re holding yourself back.’ 

‘What do you mean?’

‘Your father told you about the kite and the line, right? You’re not letting yourself off the ground, you’ve never written under conditions of absolute reality before, why start now sweetie?’ 

Steve pondered the advice of the phantom text for a moment. It was true, he had been so caught up in sticking to the facts of the matter that he had forgotten all about flourish and hyperbole, something he never neglected to do in his other books, ‘Thanks, I think I needed to hear that.’

‘Of course baby, I’m sure your fans will love this when it’s done.’ 

‘It’s not for them actually’ Steve realized his mistake before he even read the response.

‘Who’s it for?’ 

Steve slammed his laptop shut and hastily stuffed it into his carry-on. If his mother didn’t know about his child he planned to keep it that way. He decided he earned that drink.

###  6 

The air in Massachusetts was a fair bit brisker than it was in LA, something Steve’s rational mind knew well and yet the rest of him had always forgotten for some reason. All that being said he was just happy to breathe fresh air and have his feet on solid ground. He took out his phone and turned airplane mode off, he had intended to call a taxi but instead his attention was drawn to a text he must have gotten mid flight. It was from Shirley

`‘Something came up with work so I won’t be able to pick you up, Theo will be there instead.’`

_Well, that’s nice of them._ His siblings going out of their way for him made Steve feel even worse for burning those bridges. _This was all Nellie wanted._ He sent back a thumbs-up emoji and went to wait outside.

Before long, Steve was in Theo’s green Jeep, she had stopped wearing her signature gloves that she would never be seen without before, even in bed. He almost wanted to say something but couldn’t think of a way to broach the subject delicately.

“You look like shit,” she teased, “do you need coffee or something?”

“What I need is a nap but coffee will do,” he said with a laugh as he rubbed his face.

“Seven hour flight and you didn’t try to squeeze in a power nap?” she asked as she pulled into a café, Steve couldn’t tell if she was concerned or questioning his intelligence. Knowing his sister, probably both.

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping in my own bed let alone a mile in the air,” Steve replied thoughtlessly as he exited the jeep.

Their conversation halted briefly as they ordered but when they seated themselves Theo picked up right where they left off, “so how long have you had trouble sleeping?”

“I’m not sure, I- wait, are you going into shrink mode on me?”

“You’re a bit old to be one of my patients, Steve. But seriously, Shirley told me what happened and then you show up looking like death, call it a healthy interest in my brother’s well being.”

_Touché, Dr. Crain, touché._ Steve fidgeted as he thought about how specific or honest he wanted to be

“A year or so, I guess.”

“Have you talked with your therapist about it?”

“Well I don’t have one so no, I haven’t.” _Why would she just assume_ -

Theo gave Steve a blank look before closing her eyes and bringing her face into the palm of her hands. She remained that way until the server bringing their drinks had walked away then lightly clapped her hands together, face now caked with tired incredulity.

“What’s all that about?”

Theo’s eyes rolled towards the ceiling, fingers steepled, “I’m not upset it’s just- the fuck, Steve? I love you, but you’re a piece of work sometimes,” _There’s that patented Theodora Crain backhanded affection,_ “how many years did you insist that we all had some vague, genetic mental illness and you’ve never sought treatment?”

“Well I… I guess I just thought if I was careful it wouldn’t get the better of me. That if I just tried my best to live a normal life away from all the craziness that I could beat it,” his hands shook as he went for his drink, he retracted it and hoped she didn’t notice, “but what does it even matter now? I was wrong about pretty much everything: ghosts are real and that old mansion I lived in when I was thirteen was actually a soul devouring monster with a mold problem,” there was an uncomfortable beat and that gave Steve a chance to notice how much he raised his voice without meaning to, “so, uh, how’s Trish?”

“Don’t try to change the subject, I’m just trying to- here,” she reached her hand out towards Steve and he just stared, “you know the drill, don’t pretend.”

Steve _did_ know the drill. As kids, Nellie would talk about Theo’s gift sometimes and he’d play along in what he thought at the time just make believe, but after all he’d seen he’d have to be an idiot to doubt her. Somewhat reluctantly, Steve placed his hand in his sister’s. Theo’s hands suddenly went clammy and began to shake. Her breaths became shallow and her eyes widened, somehow Steve found this all very familiar. Theo withdrew her hand and looked at Steve with a tearful eye. You haven’t emoted like this in years, what the hell?

“Steve, I’m so sorry.”

_“You’re_ sorry? I feel like I should be the one apologizing. Jesus, did I do that to you?”

“No it’s not your fault. But I, uh, got a taste of what it’s like when you...”

“Get weird?”

“That’s one way to put it. Steve, I don’t think it’s in your blood but you have some things you need to work through. There’s ways to help with this, you don’t just have to suffer through it.” 

“You’d think I would have learned that by now;” Steve looked out the café window, hoping against hope that he’d see Nellie there. He took a swig of his coffee and shook his head, “thanks, Theo. Say, not for nothing, but I don’t think I’ve seen this side of you in, well, ever.”

“Shut up.”

“There she is,” they both laughed, “so, where do I go from here?”

“Well first you have a nice weekend with your sisters where you don’t have to think about shit. Self care takes many forms after all.”

From there the talk drifted off into somewhat less stressful areas of conversation. Steve had almost broached the subject of his yet-born child but no, that would have to be a discussion for the whole family. For once he thought he was seeing the real Theo, or a version of her without disguise. As they were leaving, just before entering her car she surprised him by pulling him into a hug. An unprompted hug from Theo was about as rare as seeing a unicorn and, to Steve, just as cherishable. 

_This is all I wanted._

### 7

Shirley welcomed Steve warmly, something he was learning to expect in theory but still getting used to in practice. She had appeared to let go of the years of bad blood faster than him, though given that it was always Steve on the receiving end of the animosity perhaps he did have more to fear. Theo, ever observant, acted as a silent yet effective coach in assuring Steve that Shirley was not, in fact, making secret jabs at him throughout the day. Steve would catch himself wondering how Theo knew what he was thinking despite knowing that she was both psychic and a psychologist. _As if life with ghosts wasn’t fucking weird enough._ Kevin had joined them just in time for dinner. Steve did his best to steer clear of anything related to spirits or the house, unsure of just what Shirley might have told him, though he wasn’t desperate to talk about such things anyway.

“By the way, Steve,” Shirley segued at some point over dinner, “your last book was good, like good good.”

“Shirley has not only read one of my books but liked it, this might be the end times, folks,” Kevin and Theo laughed, Shirley gave an embarrassed smile. 

“No I mean it, Steve, you’re better than I remember,” _Our family not being the subject matter probably has something to do with that._

“I mean people have been saying it’s the best since… a while. But I’ll take the praise from you over a Hugo award.”

_Nearly went back to Hill House there, she probably caught that._ Conversation diverted to other things soon after. Steve offered to help Kevin with the dishes, anything for a chance to clear his head. Theo either knew what he was doing and just didn’t care or approved, _that one is still hard to read when she wants to be._ Steve had hopes of having a refreshingly bland conversation with his brother-in-law, however they would eventually dissolve.

“Hey, Steve, mind if I ask you a kind of… personal question?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Have you gone back to the house, Hill House I mean?” Steve couldn’t think of a better question to sucker-punch himself at that moment if he tried.

“No... why?”

“This might sound crazy, but sometimes Shirley will say things in her sleep-”

“Oh I know. I’ve learned many nuggets of wisdom from a sleeping Shirl.”

“No, trust me, I get that most of the things she says are complete nonsense but sometimes she’ll say something and it’s kinda true,” Steve wanted to retort but knowing all he knew now he figured he might as well hear this out, “a couple of nights ago she said ‘Steve and Nell are having a party’, and I just thought I’d check in on you, you know, make sure it was just more nonsense.”

“Well, the last time I partied with Nell was at her wedding, maybe that’s what she was talking about.”

“Right, right, makes sense. Maybe it’s none of my business but given what’s happened to your family I just worry sometimes.”

“I mean, it’s your family too,” Kevin smiled at that, Steve returned the smile and they finished up before rejoining the girls who had gotten a head start with the drinking.

### 8

By the end of the night Steve had dizzily stumbled his way into the guest house and face planted onto the bed. Eventually Steve rolled and went to take his shoes off but found his coordination off, not helping this was that he had elected to keep the lights off. His frustration was alleviated when the touch of familiar hands had begun to hold his feet and untie his shoes. It was dark but he thought he could make out the silhouette of Shirley’s wavy hair. _Right, she could handle her drink better than most of us._ Steve leaned back into the pillows and then rolled to his side, slurring out a thank you as he did. Steve felt the bed sink ever so slightly behind him. _Oh god, don’t tell me she wants to talk. Can’t it wait until morning?_ He waited in silence for a moment, but rather than words, cold fingers began to run through his hair.

“Ah jeez, what are you, my mom?” Steve said in protest, he appreciated sisterly affection but this was pushing it.

“Who else am I supposed to be, Stevie?” this voice was definitely not Shirley, that was the voice of someone who shouldn’t be here. 

“Mom?” Steve went cold, _you’re drunk, this isn’t real._ The entity answered him with a soft hum.

“It’s funny the things you miss when your kids grow up. You think you can’t wait for them to start dressing and feeding themselves yet it’s more of a bittersweet feeling when they stop needing you. You grew up so fast.”

“Really?” _Why are you talking to her? Shut up!_

“Oh yes, you wanted so much to be like your dad. You just wanted to help, to fix things like him, it was the cutest thing.”

“I’m kinda tired of fixing things, to be honest,” Steve was surprised to hear himself speak yet couldn’t stop, “I wish I could just get things right the first time from now on.”

“There’s nothing wrong with trying your best. Just don’t be so hard on yourself when things don’t go right. It breaks my heart to see you like that,” soft lips kissed his head and just like that he was out. 

Steve awoke half expecting to find his the apparition of his mother still there, but the only thing to greet him in the morning hush was a hangover. 

### 9

“Sleep alright?” Kevin asked Steve as he put a plate of bacon on the table. Steve smiled morbidly.

“Oh, sleep was great,” Steve said as he shoveled bacon onto his plate, “waking up is a different story altogether.”

“Tell me about it,” a sleepy Shirley said as she entered the kitchen.

“What ever happened to Early-Shirley?” Steve teased.

“Bite me,” was all she said as she accepted and drank heavily from a cup of coffee Kevin handed her.

“So what’s on the docket today? We kinda tossed the morning in the trash,” Steve said before stuffing his face with pancake.

“Well, I’ll be handling a few things for the funeral home side of things so you and Shirl can squeeze in some quality sibling time.”

Steve often wondered what Shirley did to find and keep someone like Kevin, as he wondered at times about his father and mother, and himself and Leigh, _I guess us Crains are reachers._

As though on cue, Kevin’s phone rang and he excused himself.

“Well, maybe you’ve changed your mind but you did say over text that you were thinking about visiting their graves,” Shirley said with a tenderness he still had to remind himself that she was capable of, “and I was thinking it’d be better to go together.”

Steve stammered a bit, half thinking to turn down the offer, “yeah, yeah that sounds good. Sorry, I swear I’m not trying to pile my shit on you.”

“What else is family for?” Shirley said with a sad smile.

The conversation was sparse most of the way to the cemetery, yet it didn’t feel too awkward to Steve. He worried the same was not true for Shirley but reminded himself that Shirley had no qualms in saying what she wanted, when she wanted (especially not with him).

Steve used to think, privately, that Nellie should have been buried near where their mother and father are now but it’s not like he could deny her wishes to be buried next Arthur. In retrospect he was glad that Nellie’s remains aren’t near his mother’s, though as he lowered himself to be level with his parents’ headstones he had a sudden thought.

“Doesn’t this seem a bit, I don’t know, ridiculous?” Steve said.

“What?”

“Coming here, I mean. We’re standing over nothing but bones. We know mom and dad aren’t here and we know where they actually are.” Steve said as he rubbed his forehead and he sat on the grass.

Steve could tell from Shirley’s expression that she wanted to fight him on this, but after a moment sighed and joined him on the ground. They shared a reflective moment, Steve looking at the earth and stone before him while Shirley looked to the sky a she pondered her retort. 

“I get what you’re saying, but it’s not like we can just go back, and it’s also not like they’re trapped, I mean mom is always-” Shirley cut herself off, something Steve had rarely seen her do.

“Mom is always 'what’? Shirley are you saying what I think your saying?”

“Maybe, It’s just I- I think I see her sometimes. Never that clearly, always out of the corner of my eye or too far away to make out for sure but I could swear I see her; when I’m struggling with the kids or the business it’s like I can feel her there,” Shirley buried her face in her palms, “I’m sorry, I bet this is upsetting.”

“Actually, believe it or not it’s kind of a relief,” Shirley looked at him, sad eyes now mixed with surprise, “Yeah, I see her, a lot. Just last night as a matter of fact, after I went to bed. She talks to me sometimes,” Shirley placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What does she say?”

“She gives a lot of advice. She’s like a postmortem helicopter parent,” he laughed how macabre his words were, Shirley couldn’t help a reluctant smile, “that was bad but I’m not kidding. She touches my hair a lot, too.”

“That’s crazy,” Shirley said as she stared at her mother’s plot, “I don’t think I could handle that.”

Steve put an arm around Shirley’s shoulder, “Everything about our lives is crazy. Hopefully this next generation of Crains has an easier time with each other than we did.”

“God, I hope so,” after a minute Shirley gently broke away and stood up, “want to go see Nellie?” _More than anything._

“In a minute, you go on without me.”

“How could I?” Shirley jabbed playfully before walking off.

Steve rested his elbows against his knees as he filtered his thoughts.

“I think we’re doing it, dad. I think we finally learned how to be kind to each other.”

### 10

As the weekend came to a close, so too did Steve’s time with his sisters, the living ones anyway. Alone with his thoughts, Steve couldn’t help but dwell on Nellie as he waited for his flight home. _Why can’t I see you? Don’t you miss me too?_

_Am I still a bad brother?_

Steve might have followed that line of thinking further but he was jolted out of his own mind by the voice on the intercom.

“We’re sorry to report that Boston to Los Angeles will be delayed for six hours.” _Are you serious? That’s almost as long as the flight itself!_

Steve pulled his phone out and texted Leigh the news of the delay. He was about to do the same for the group chat with him and his sisters, hoping to hang around one of them rather than sit in the airport for hours, when he had another idea. _That’s enough time to get to Hill House and back with time to spare._

Steve shook his head, wondering if he could think of a worse idea if he tried, but as he sat there with his thumb hovering without intent over his phone’s keyboard the seed of the idea took root and grew in his mind. He exited out of the group chat and made his way to the rental cars.

The drive from the airport was long enough for Steve to really question what he was doing. His father’s words from the last trip they made to the house echoed in his mind. Why was the house dangerous to him most of all? _It wants all of us, right?_ Perhaps that thought was why he didn’t tell the others what he was doing, if they couldn’t talk him out of it they would come for him, and that meant putting them in danger, something he vowed he’d never do. 

Steve slowed down as a familiar sight came into view: the motel his father had dropped them off at on that fateful night nearly thirty years ago. He pulled into the parking lot and shut the car off, he raked his sore fingers through his hair as he leaned into his seat. _Is this what qualifies for a midlife crisis when you’ve already had several existential crises?_ He pulled his phone out, he had to call someone, anyone. But before he could so much as look at the screen he was briefly blinded by the by the camera light. _What the fuck, I didn’t turn that on._ Then the light flashed twice and he dropped his phone. _Alright,_ he thought to himself, gripping the steering wheel harder than before, _let’s fucking do this._ He pulled out the parking lot and raced the rest of the way there.

The house looked much the same state as it was left in, not that Steve expected much else. The gates squeaked in protest as they were pushed aside and the gravel crunched beneath Steve’s feet as he walked toward the mouth of the beast. _I’m walking towards something I should be running away from,_ Steve thought despite his continued momentum. He was halted only by the sudden illumination of the porch light, twice it flashed as Steve let out a frustrated sigh.

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.” Steve chanted as he resumed walking. 

As Steve placed his hand on the heavy wooden doors of the old Victorian mansion, he took one last moment to brace himself. _Whatever wacky, fucked up shit this Hell hole tries to show you, just don’t look._ Summoning his courage he pulled the doors open, expecting the worse. Yet the vision that awaited him was not horrifying, nor was it the house’s true, decrepit appearance, rather the foyer of the house was alive and brightly lit as countless well dressed people socialized and danced while swing music played from somewhere deeper in the house.

“Huh,” Steve said, “I don’t know if this is better or worse.”

Steve took a few cautious steps into the foyer, half expecting the doors to slam behind him as he did, and surveyed the partying apparitions. None of them seemed to notice him, or were ignoring him at the very least, both worked well enough for him. Seeing no recognizable faces from the outside, Steve came to the upsetting conclusion that he would have to venture into the crowd in order to find his quarry.

As Steve weaved his way past the socializing specters he grew frustrated, _you practically invited me over, Mom, least you could do is greet me at the door._ He was about to start yelling names when a voice from behind called to him.

“You look mighty confused, sir.” Steve whirled around to see a woman with short red hair in a blue flapper dress smiling at him. Something about her seemed strangely familiar.

Steve looked over his back, just to make sure he was the one she was talking to. “Umm, yeah,” he said as he wondered just how bad of an idea this was, “sorry, this all feels incredibly surreal. Like, some sort of stress dream.”

“A dream? Why, you might be onto something there mister.” She said with the faintest hint of a giggle.

“What?”

“You tell me, author boy, what else might this be but something conjured on the silver screen in your sleepy head?”

“No, I know now, this house is…” Steve paused, realizing the ridiculousness of what he was saying, “haunted.” 

The flapper laughed. “The only spirits here can be found in the liquor cabinet. I can pour you some if you’d like?”

“No, no, I-” dream or not, Steve came here for something else, “I’m looking for someone. Nellie? Eleanor Crain? Have you seen her?”

“Hmm, might have, but I’d like one small thing from you first.” 

“Uh, what might that be?” 

“Well, I find myself without a partner to dance with, if I could just have one dance I’d be more than happy to help you find your sister.”

Steve sighed. “I guess if that’s what it takes.” As he took her hand and the other on her hip, _just like mom taught,_ he found himself still vexed as to why this woman seemed so familiar. Maybe she was a movie starlet from that era? _What a weird thing for my brain to bring up if this really is a dream._

The two waltzed and whirled their way around the foyer, eventually exiting the foyer and even up stairs at one point. Steve began to enjoy the dance despite himself. He felt a strange high as the dance continued, not just in his elation as worries seemed to melt away, it was as though they were actually ascending as they spiraled around each other. He began to forget life outside the walls of Hill House. Yet something still stirred in the back of his mind.

“You know I never got your name,” Steve said.

“Aw, you don’t remember me, Stevie?” the flapper said as she pressed into him, “I’m Poppy, Poppy Hill.”

Steve’s heart stopped as the name caused his memory to light up like wildfire. Suddenly he was thirteen again, asking Mrs. Dudley about the vanity he found in the game room - no, the Red Room - and the picture within, the eyes of a wild young woman staring back at him. As he came back from his memories he found himself looking at a very different Poppy, eyes like milky white orbs and skin turned a rotten gray, smiling at him with a sick joy. Shock overcame him as he backed away from the horrifying visage and staggered backward until he felt himself bump into something metal. He looked back and realized where he actually was: the top of the spiraling metal staircase in the library, and in his panic he had just pushed the hand rail right out of its rusted sockets. As he teetered on the edge he saw the house for what it truly was; Steve looked down and saw his mother, head cracked open, arms outstretched towards him to welcome him to the other side.

Just as Steve’s weight shifted irreversibly over the edge a soft hand took his. As he was suspended there with his heels against the edge, a voice pushed its way over his beating heart.

“What are you doing here, Steve?” Steve turned his attention away from the floor below and towards his savior.

“Nellie!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot shorter than the first, just a heads up.

### 0 - Hill House, Then

“Nellie, I’m too old to be playing with dolls,” Steven tried to tell his youngest sister as he paced around the toy room, perplexed that a stuffy old mansion would even have a room like this.

“That’s what Shirley said,” Eleanor said defeatedly.

“Have you asked Theo?”

“I’ve asked everyone and they all say no, even Luke! You’re the only one who would even come here.”

“That’s surprising, Luke plays with dolls too.” 

“His army guys aren’t dolls.”

“Oh really?” Steve said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, that’s what he says at least, but I don’t see what the difference is.”

“Maybe it’s a twin thing, he doesn’t want to be just like you,” Steve realized his misstep when Nellie pouted.

“What’s wrong with being like me?”

“Nothing,” Steve sat down across from Nellie, “there’s nothing wrong with you,” he smiled at her, seeing his efforts weren’t quite as effective as he hoped he sighed and mentally prepared himself for the commitment he was about to make, “So, what’s this one’s name?”

Nellie’s expression lit up. _Worth it,_ Steve thought as Nellie excitedly told him about Mr.Bristles.

### 1 - Hill House, Now

Steven Crain had found himself in many bizarre places throughout his life, but he would never have expected to be teetering on the edge of the library balcony in Hill House, hanging on only by the grace of his sister - the dead one. Nellie, with a strength she did not possess in life, pulled him back to safety. The combination of vertigo and the sheer force of his spectral sister’s assistance nearly sent Steve sprawling yet somehow he managed to remain on his feet. Steve just stared at the ledge for a while before reoriented his focus towards Nellie.

“Fothermucker, Nell! You nearly-” Steve began, struggling to breathe, his brain still alight from his brush with death, “were you trying to put me through the wall?”

“It beats the fall, trust me;” Nellie said dryly as she walked past Steve and into the hall, making a gesture for him to follow, “what’s wrong, Steve?” Nellie asked as they walked

“What’s wrong? Like, with me? Well I’m all good now, thanks. Yeah I’m good, I’m fine. How are you?” Steve stammered out. He began to notice that at some point Nellie’s visage shifted, no longer was she wearing a cream colored nightgown, but a denim jacket, red shirt, and jeans, and her hair pulled back.

Nellie sighed, “I’m dead, Steve, that was the room I died in, and you almost continued the family tradition. So I’m not great, not really.”

Steve wanted to argue back but he was having a hard time finding the right words as Nellie lead him through the decrepit remains of Hill House. As they passed the grand staircase he looked down into the foyer to see that the party he walked into, or the illusion of one at least, had ceased to be. _Finally,_ Steve thought to himself as he witnessed the decay, _the face matches the darkness held within._ Nellie lead him into what was once her and Luke’s bedroom. He was almost surprised to see how well some of the furnishings had held up in the absence of living people to keep up the place. Nellie sat down on her old bed and took a look around.

“I remember those nights where I’d see _her,_ I’d scream and cry and wake up the rest of the house, you’d always come in to check on me even though you knew dad or mom would be in at any second.” Nellie said with a bittersweet smile.

“Well, yeah,” Steve said as he sat at the edge of the bed, “I guess I actually knew how to be a good brother then.”

Silence lay steadily between them for a moment before Nellie spoke again. “Why did you come back here? You know how dangerous it is.”

“This was not my brightest moment, no, I’ll give you that,” Steve said as he buried his face in his hands, “frankly, I’m more embarrassed about what happened after I got here,” he chuckled, overcome by the dark humor of it all, “you know, dad told me that this place was _especially_ dangerous for me yet somehow I forgot that.”

“This house will show you the world you want to see and use it against you. You wanted a place where nothing was wrong and accepted what it gave you, even if it didn’t make any sense.”

“But, I didn’t even make it to the Red Room,” Steve said, still trying to understand everything that happened.

“Neither did I when my time came,” Nellie put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve looked at Nellie, the worry swimming in her eyes was disarming.

“I should just leave, shouldn’t I?”

“Probably,” Nellie said with a shrug, “but since you’re here we might as well talk through whatever possessed you to come here in the first place.”

“Poor choice of words,” Steve chuckled, “I guess the short answer is that I miss you.”

“I know.” Nellie said solemnly.

“You knew? You knew and you didn’t think to show yourself every once and awhile?” Steve found himself almost getting angry.

“I was worried that would just encourage you to do something-”

“Stupid? Well I did that anyway!” Steve got off the bed and stood there, not knowing whether or not he wanted to storm off or grab a pillow to scream into.

“Steve, you should really calm down.”

“You know I thought that maybe after everything with dad and the Red Room that maybe you guys couldn’t haunt us anymore, but mom but I still visits from mom all the time! You know we all try to pretend that just because some of us got out of this place alive a second time that it didn’t ruin our lives. Three people I love more than anything are swallowed in this cursed heap of wood and stone and I’m just supposed to have a normal life? I might not be a ghost but I’m trapped here too. Every time I get the slightest reminder of you guys or life just pushes me I feel like I’m in free fall and I just want to see you again but you won’t even show up!” Steve might have said more, but his anger disappeared when he saw a tear run down his sister’s face and his heart broke as he realized his hypocrisy. “I… I’m sorry, I should just-” he tried to say but before he knew it suddenly Nellie was pulling him into a tight embrace.

Steve cried quietly. Though Nellie was cold, in that moment Steve wanted to hold on to her forever.

“I’m sorry, I thought we had our goodbye but you’re right, nothing’s ever that simple.” Nellie said through soft whimpers.

“Don’t worry, I’m the goddamn captain of the ‘painfully wrong club’;” Steve said with a small laugh, “Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” Nellie said as she placed a hand on Steve’s cheek, “there’s nothing wrong with you. You just need to be more honest about what you can handle on your own. I’m flattered that you want to come to me but it’s just not an option. You still have Shirl and Theo and Luke, and they need you as much need them.”

“Oh shit,” Steve sighed, “Shirl’s going to have my head when she finds out about this.”

Nellie laughed and smiled at Steve. “Just remember to fight with love, she’s on your side.”

The swing music that had been playing when Steve first entered the house resumed. Steve looked at Nellie who seemed just as confused as he did. They cautiously crept towards the balcony that overlooked the foyer below. The party was back in full swing. Before long Steve had spotted his mother and father among the dancers.

“What’s the matter, dolls?” a familiar voice said with venomous playfulness.

### 2

Steve turned to see that Poppy Hill had appeared out of thin air behind him and Nellie. Poppy’s visage was back to looking like a young woman yet that did little to assuage Steve’s fear of her.

“Didja get lost again, Stevie?” Poppy said with an eerie jovialness. Nellie interposed herself between her brother and the sinister specter, provoking a laugh from Poppy, “even after all these years you’re still just the cutest, Nellie. Don’t worry your pretty little head, I had my fun with him already.”

“You tried to kill me!” Steve all but shouted at the fatal flapper.

“Me? Why, all I did was what we agreed to. We danced and found your sister, ain’t my fault you lost your balance.”

“Whatever, if you’re really done then what’s with all this?” Nellie demanded, gesturing to the party a floor below.

Poppy giggled as she moved to lean on the balcony railing. “Not everything's about you, kids. Your generation has such an ego. Just because you two aren’t having fun doesn’t mean the rest of us have to stop. Feel free to join us once you’re done with your little pity party up here.” She gave them a wink and made her way to the stairs.

“Well, that happened,” Steve said, “say, was she lying about the booze?”

Nellie looked at Steve with subtle astonishment before giggling, “I think looters got to most of the good stuff. Besides, you have to hit the road.” 

“Right, right,” he said, laughing at himself, “I suppose I better get going before the phantom flapper gets any more ideas,” he looked out at the party going ghosts once more, his mother had spotted them and was waving, Steve waved back awkwardly. _My therapist is going to be rich._ He looked over at his sister and spoke again. 

“Say, before I go there’s something I’d like to ask you. Leigh’s due in three months and I was wondering if it was okay if-”

“Of course it is,” Nellie said, smiling, “I’m honored.”

_Right,_ Steve reminded himself, _she’s unstuck from time._ “Thank you, that means a lot to me,” he paused for a moment before another idea came to him, “one more thing.”

“Oh?”

“You can see our moments fall around us, right, do I come back here again?”

“That’s up to you, Steven.” Nellie patted Steve on the shoulder then began to head back to her room.

“Well if that’s the case,” Steve said as he caught up with her, “I still have some free time before my flight, why _not_ party a bit?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah! How much grief has this house caused us and everyone else who ever stepped foot here? I think they have the right idea down there. It’s about time we used this place’s mind-fuck powers for our amusement,” Steve insisted despite Nellie’s look of disbelief, “I know, I know, it’s ridiculous but I had a rough week and I came all the way from California to have a good time with my sisters, and I’m already here so why not?”

Nellie looked near to bursting before finally giving in and erupting with laughter, “I guess I owe you for all the times I made you come to the playroom with me. One dance, and then you get somewhere safe, deal?”

“Deal.” Steve said as went into an exaggerated bow, prompting another laugh from Nellie. He looked up to see her attire transformed to a dress not dissimilar to the one she wore at her wedding, save the color was more of a creamy off-white. “Wow…”

“What?”

“You look amazing.” Steve said, at a loss for any other words.

“As do you, my good sir.” Nellie said as she giggled and returned Steve’s gesture with an exaggerated curtsy.

Steve took Nellie’s in his and the two descended the grand staircase and joined the crowd. Though at first it was awkward, the siblings unable to stop giggling, in short time they began to truly get into the rhythm of the phantom music. Unlike when he danced with Poppy, where the tension he had been feeling was simply masked by the house’s spell, Steve felt genuine joy fill his heart. Seeing Nellie laughing and happy, _that made the whole trip back to this damn house worth it._

“You’re not, by the way,” Nellie suddenly said as the music slowed and the energy came down, “you’re not a bad brother. You never were. You’re just kind of a dork.”

“Gee, thanks.” Steve smiled down at his younger sister as he pulled her into a hug. 

As the two exited the embrace, Steve felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see his mother and father. He froze with apprehension, “trade partners?” Hugh asked.

### 3

“This is so nice.” Olivia Crain said as she slow-danced with Steve

_Try nerve-wracking,_ Steve thought to himself as he wondered why he agreed to this, but when he looked at his mother’s face, shining with joy, it didn’t seem all that bad. Nellie and his father stayed within sight, and Nellie would occasionally shoot him an inquisitive glance which he would return with an uneasy nod.

“You act like it’s been forever since we’ve seen each other."

“It has, kind of, it’s just nice to see you having a good time. Seeing you and your brother and sisters together and getting along is what I’ve wanted for so long,” _Only because your plan to kill all of us didn’t work._ “I’m so proud of you, you know. My son, a best selling author, I always knew you were going to great.”

“Yeah, well you might not like how I got there. The rest of the family sure didn’t,” even now, Steve had mixed feelings feelings about how he characterized his mother in his novel. Sure, he was wrong about her just being crazy, but somehow this house had turned his mother into something more horrifying. And yet, despite his unease, it was nice to talk to his mother face to face again.

“I’m not mad, sweetie. I know you only wrote what you understood. You had no idea what was really going on. I’m sorry, Stevie,” His mother kissed him on the cheek and looked at him warmly. 

“Well,” Steve said as he saw his father and sister approaching, “I should get going. I promised Nell ‘one dance then I’ll leave’ and I’m kind of bending that promise.”

His mother gave him a tight hug as his father put a hand on his shoulder. Nellie just looked at Steve and smiled sadly. Steve couldn’t help but tear up.

“I’m going to miss you guys.” Steve said shakily.

“Did you forget?” Nellie said.

“There is no without.” Hugh said giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“We are not gone.” Olivia said with tears in her eyes.

“You’re scattered into so many pieces and sprinkled on my life like a new snow,” Steve finished as he wiped his eyes dry. When he went to see his family again they were gone, as were all the other ghosts. He stood alone in the foyer. _No,_ Steve thought to himself, _I’m never alone._

Steve exited Hill House, making sure to leave its doors sensibly shut. As he entered his rental car he noticed that he had left his phone on the dashboard. Three missed calls from Shirley, two from Theo, and quite a few texts.

_Well shit, Steven, you made your bed, now lie in it._

He called Shirley and she answered almost immediately.

“Steve? Are you okay?” She asked frantically.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Jesus, what the fuck, Steve? We heard from Leigh your flight was delayed and then you ghost us - what’s going on?”

Steve sighed heavily. “Do you have time for a stupid story?”

### 4

The talk with his sisters was easier than Steve had expected. There was plenty of shouting and Shirley looked as though might have punched him at times, but in the end they were understanding. Theo decided she would help him find a good therapist sometime in the coming months and Shirley asked him for a weekly check in from now on; and as assertive as they were it was clearly from a place of love. They waited with him at the gate when it came time for him to board his flight.

For the first time since he could remember, Steve slept for almost the entire flight, alleviating a bit of jet-lag. As he took his phone off airplane mode a text from his brother, Luke, came in.

‘Hey bro, Leigh asked me to pick you up. Also the girls told me what happened’

_That’s only fair I supposed. Everyone gets their licks in._

When Steve walked out it didn’t take long to find his brother. After exchanging pleasantries there was a moment of silence that Luke only broke after they got onto the road.

“So that was pretty fucking stupid, huh?” Luke said almost laughing.

“Oh like you have _any_ room to talk!”

“Hey, at least I went there to burn the place down.”

“Yeah and how did that work out?” Steve began to laugh along with his brother. Perhaps there exist among brothers a unique shared amusement in each others’ idiocy.

“You know I get it,” Luke said as their laughter died down, “I can’t say I haven’t thought about doing the same thing. So what happened after you got there?”

“Long story short the ghosts were having a party of all things, a dead flapper convinced me that it was all a dream and nearly got me to fall off the same damn ledge mom and Nell did, Nell saved my ass, she scolded me, and then we decided ‘fuck it, might as join the party,’ and then I walked out.”

“Huh…” Luke mused as he took in everything Steve said, “that’s pretty wild.”

“Try bat shit crazy. God, I haven’t had a bigger lapse in judgement in my life.”

“Kinda like a relapse, really.”

“Relapse?” Steve echoed, “what do you mean?”

“Well, you spent a long time in denial about what was happening, it was how you coped with everything. You formed a dependency on it, kinda like an addict does. And when you’re recovering, the time you’re most likely to relapse is when shit hits the fan and you don’t know what else to do.”

“I hadn’t thought about it that way.” Steve said, looking solemnly out the passenger side window as it started to rain.

“Don’t worry, man, we got this.”

“‘We’?”

“Yeah, any addict alone is in bad company.”

“No disrespect but I’m not sure we can compare it to a life threatening addiction.”

“Dude, less than twenty-four hours ago you nearly fell to your death in a haunted house you know is dangerous.”

“I- fair point,” Steve sighed in defeat, “thanks, man. I’m not sure I deserve this after I, well… lost faith in you.”

“I didn’t make it that easy to believe in me. And after what Joey did I can sympathize even more. But you and the others are the only reason I’m - shit, is it two years already? - yeah, two years clean. So I’m gonna be there for you anyway I can. That’s the only way we get through anything. Together.”

Once they made it to Steve and Leigh’s place they hugged each other the second they got out of the car despite the downpour.

_“Forgiveness is warm.”_ Nellie’s words resonated in Steve’s heart and mind. _“Like a tear on a cheek. Think of that and of me when you stand in the rain.”_

### 5 - Three Months Later

“She’s perfect,” Steve said in awe as he held his newborn child in his arms for the first time, “hard to believe I had anything to do with making her.”

“Oh shush, Steve,” Leigh said as she patted the child’s head from her hospital bed. For a moment the new parents simply looked in admiration at their daughter. The moment was concluded with a knock on the door. They bid the knocker entry.

“How are we feeling, Mrs. Crain?” asked a nurse as they entered.

“Pretty good, all things considered.” Leigh said, struggling to keep her eyes off the new center of her world. 

“That’s great to hear. Do you think you’re ready for visitors? You have a few in the waiting room already.”

“I don’t see why not,” Leigh said, distracted. The nurse took her leave.

_Wait,_ Steve thought to himself, _‘visitors?’ Plural? I only told Luke. Then again I don’t know who Leigh told._ His quiet bewilderment was replaced by surprise and joy as one by one Shirley, Theo, and Luke entered the room. Seeing them all lined up like that it wasn’t hard to imagine Nellie at the end. _Who’s to say I’m imagining her though?_

“Surprise!” Shirley said quietly.

“Really think we’d miss this party?” Theo asked rhetorically

“You guys… How did you even… Good to have you her,” Steve said, letting go of confusion in place of gratitude. He noticed Luke in particular staring at his child, “wanna hold her?”

“Uh, yeah, I would,” Luke said, hesitant but delighted as the Crains gathered around.

“Let me introduce you,” Steve said as he gently put his daughter in Luke’s arms, “to little Eleanor Crain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in retrospect I probably should have made this three chapters by splitting Chapter 1 into two. Regardless I'm fairly happy with how this turned out. Part of me can't believe that I actually finished it.  
> You mean the world to me if you read the whole thing, thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> I was editing and tweaking this right up until I submitted it. I had a lot of passion for this project and it kinda spiraled out beyond I initially imagined for it. for one I didn't expect this to be two chapters but it became clear as soon as outlining that this would have to be (at least for my tastes). This should wrap up nicely in chapter two, but I can't guarantee anything. Hope you enjoyed my debut as a fan fic writer, thank you for reading!


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